A Young Pup
by KingIradescense
Summary: If that box was opened, they thought, it would be all over. There would be a monumental and abrupt change. And they just couldn't have that. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Sadly, they had no idea where the memory box was at the moment. (Obviously, more characters than listed. Some humor ensues.)
1. Chapter 1

**Sorry if you're also reading my Undertale story, but this idea has been killing me for weeks now. This disregards the visual novels and the whole 'Bigby in Europe until Snow uses lycanthropy knife on him' thing. You'll see why later. Post chapter 5, a month and a half since the Crooked Man was brought in, assuming he was thrown in the well. Also, did anyone else realize that Bigby's room number at the Woodlands is the same one he got at the Open Arms hotel? 204.**

* * *

It started out the same way most things do; a little thought in the smallest crevices of your mind. It slowly grew and expanded from there, something some thoughts never experienced. This particular thought climbed its way high and could easily be found in many trains of thought that have, would, and were running through one newly appointed Deputy Mayor, and perhaps the occasional civillian or two. The only difference between them is that one has dismissed it, to move on with their lives and onto new thoughts, while the other's mind quickly became attached and incredibly conscious of its presence. In this case... conscious meant approving and curious. Curiosity is a very fickle thing, and hard to truly describe; it's something most simply claim they _know_. Examples can be provided but a definition truly pertaining and applying to all different mindscapes, through all its dips and mountains, is truly impossible. To divulge further would mean to dredge up the fact that not only can it not be explained, but there are different... levels, would be a supposedly good word for it.

Yes... different levels of curiosity. For the intents and purposes, the levels will be ranked based on a number scale. Zero will be no curiosity at all, though this is impossible, and will be used as a reference point from which to move from. Take an average joe. Say he is rather noncommital and, though once desiring something greater, has come to a point where he realizes his future will be just his day job and coming home to store-bought meals and perhaps some TV. He hangs out with his friends but never has much interest in anything anymore, but if he were to become curious about something, hypothetically, he'd be a level four. It'd never become large enough unless smaller, more specific aspects of his being dictated otherwise. Of course there was obviously more to the person than that, but to describe the odd existence that was a conscious mind and unique personality would not only take many, many, uncountable years simple to fully go into for one person, but that the further you moved from the core, the more liable it was to change. Even now, these rankings have a margin of error.

But imagining they are correct and not liable to change, Miss Snow White had something higher than a 15. As already stated, it was just a small thought, but now she could hardly keep it off her mind. It was something most thought rather trivial and obvious; after all, it was in all the stories, right? But... Bigby was very different than the furry antagonists depicted in the stories. Take the Little Red Riding Hood one, for example. She'd never seen Bigby go full-on wolf, and had little knowledge as to what it truly looked like, but based on simply knowing he was a wolf it didn't make sense to her about when he 'put the grandmother's clothes on'. He may sometimes act before thinking, especially when highly-emotional - though she had the idea he would deny it to his grave; even in the morgue, it would never be brought to light - but he wasn't stupid enough to think that would work. She'd never actually seen Bigby truly winded, but that gave her little idea as to how the Three Little Pigs story could have truly gone down. After all, if there was a discrepancy in one of them, couldn't there be multiple discrepancies in each? It was all just... going about in many ways as possible to make him seem like the worst thing out there.

And though Bigby had apparently tried to eat Colin and his brothers, they were surprisingly docile and highly-tolerant of each other. They considered each other friends, even. Or perhaps they both understood their places on the food chain, and though one was a carnivorous predator and the other was omnivorous prey, instead of trying to blame each other just settled with it and moved on. Both were highly irrational at times, but they were surely capable of this, Snow was sure.

Still, that left her in a questioning mood. If the stories were incorrect, then perhaps the whole... eating people thing was also false. Then... it all traces back to when he was young, doesn't it? Was he born a human and cut with a lycanthropy knife, or born a wolf and cut with the lycanthropy knife? If he was a wolf, did he have a pack? If he was human, did he have a family? How did he get cut by the knife in the first place? Was it an accident, or was it on purpose? Did he do it willingly or was resistant? Or maybe he was even unconscious during the ordeal? Was it even a knife? Maybe a syringe? Or some kind of casting spell? Did he have friends? What about siblings? What were his mother and father like? If he lived in a village, what was it like? Was he happy? Where did they go? Did he ever have a childhood crush? Was he very different from how he is now? What was his favorite pasttime? If one or both of his parents baked, did he have a favorite of what she made? Or was he fine with anything? Who were his mom and dad? Was he maybe adopted and raised by someone else? And still, she had many more questions.

These questions often ran amuck in the official's mind, sometimes making it a bit difficult to try and better Fabletown. Now that she was in control, they could tell that she was definitely trying. Sometimes the bar-flies would even come up, just to see if they could help with anything. Both were extremely grateful for the justice done to Lily's murderer and were glad to lend a hand or four when and where they could. Snow was glad for this. Of course Bigby was doing his part, but most of the work he was assigned, he would attend to alone in his office. She tried not to go in there as much as possible though. The room was riddled with the overwhelming smell of the smoke Huff 'n' Puffs produced in annoyingly large amounts. The fact that there was no window didn't help much. That was reason enough for Snow to consider it a 'crap brand' as many others had called it; not that she smoked herself. It was hard not to notice how excessively suffocating the large clouds of smoke it produced were, though, and in comparison to what others called higher-quality brands, they made less smoke and she figured the quality of the tobacco was different and went with it. Still, with his oversensitive nose, she wondered how he could stand it.

Regardless, with the two titans preoccupied with their own business and a medium-sized line waiting by the business office door, she had to both retrieve some files from Bigby and leave a few more on his desk. The Fables who waited outside the front door weren't being sassy when they saw her as she passed by with full arms, calling back for Bufkin to sort through some paperwork on her desk. In fact, some even nodded in her direction with small grins. They knew she was doing her best and right now that was all they could ask for, especially from the events they were still in the process of recovering from... though things were definitely showing signs of improvement already. Minimal, but present.

So when she knocked on his door and when there was no answer, she had let herself in with the sort of unlock-every-door-in-building key (just the offices, naturally) that higher management could often be seen having and using. Bigby was nowhere to be seen in the cramped confines of the room, most papers scattered among his desk. It was simple deceit, though. While to the unknowing mind and naked eye could it be seen as utter chaos, but by now Snow had learned that Bigby knew where he left everything. It was dysfunctional order, she mused. As long as he could make sense of it, that was fine. Fortunately, the files she had specifically given to him to be returned were stacked in a horizontal document rack he'd started keeping on his desk. The last time he'd needed it was when King Cole was actually around to be the actual Mayor, but ever since Crane came into office he never felt like he required it. Crane never really gave him any important documents that he needed to return, so he tossed it somewhere for the longest time. Now that Snow had taken his place, though, he'd returned it to its place.

She quickly went in and pulled the folders from the slot, and purposely put the new ones in a different slot. So he knew they'd been swapped. But when a little gleam in the corner of her eye piqued her interest, she pushed aside a small parcel partially covering it to uncover a shiny key. The number '204' was harshly carved into the side; clearly it wasn't made or imprinted. Likely it had been done by Bigby himself. This was, then, most likely to be the key to his apartment.

* * *

Admittedly it had been wrong to go in his room without asking permission, or even telling him, but she couldn't help herself. The endless possiblities her mind cooked up were becoming too much, and she had wanted to end them once and for all. Oddly enough, she'd actually found something of interest in one of the drawers in his kitchen which she had taken back to the Business Office for inspection. It was a little wooden box, mostly narrow. The entire topside it was seperated from the rest by a thin cut, from which Snow could assume that it was some sort of latch, though no hinges or lock was to be seen. She couldn't open it either. Bufkin had been sent to search for something that could maybe help as to solve the mystery of the box, but so far had drawn up a blank.

So, although it took a few calls, Snow finally managed to reach a particular witch.

"Greenleaf's residence."

"Hello, Miss Greenleaf? It's Snow White."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Well, I actually found something rather interesting... it might be magical, but I didn't want to proceed without making sure."

"Alright... what does it look like?"

"It just looks like a plain block of wood, but I'm certain the topside is supposed to open up. For some reason though, I can't get it to."

"Okay. Is there a lock or something on it?"

"No. There aren't any hinges, either."

"No symbols or markings?"

"None at all."

"Okay then... I'll drop by the Business Office tomorrow to take a look. Don't touch it."

"Alright, Miss Greenleaf. Thank you for your time."

"You as well." Greenleaf had abruptly hung up after that, but that wasn't what was on Snow's mind at the moment. Why would Bigby have something like this? That question alone kept her up nearly all night. She would've been nodding off at her desk if she wasn't too buzzed about finding out what was exactly in the box. So buzzed she didn't realize that Bigby could have noticed its absence by now. Aunty Greenleaf soon walked in without bothering to knock and came straight over to the desk, where the box was. Snow White had stood up to stand next to her, as if seeing it at a similar physical vantage point would maybe help. This whole thing was highly out of character for her, but when things leave to fester they can often become unpredictable.

After what felt like forever to the blue-haired woman, Greenleaf finally drawled out a long sigh. "It seems to be some sort of memory box. Usually older Fables will use it to help them remember things. By design usually only the owner can open it, but if you know the right spell, among a few other options... whose is this, anyway?"

"Just found it in the building. Can you tell whose it is?" She adjusted her glasses and took to observing the box for a few minutes longer, while Snow waited with baited breath.

"It appears to belong to the wolf... perhaps you should return it to him. Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you Miss Greenleaf." Her little escapade would have to end there. She was no witch, and didn't know what those 'other options' were, unless Bufkin could, on a smaller chance than she liked, could find something of that area. It would just continue to grow in her otherwise. She didn't like the idea of that a whole lot; she enjoyed her sanity, thank you very much.

"If you have some more questions, just call me up." She gave her a sly grin and left the office, leaving Snow to ponder if maybe Bufkin really could find it. Perhaps even the Magic Mirror could help her find the book she was looking for. Better than nothing, she supposed, as she stood up and went towards the reflective item that had a hand in starting her story.

"Mirror, mirror, if you're willing... show me something to uncover the fillings." A wispy sea of green filled the image until the mirror's face appeared.

"Dear Miss Snow, if you will, go have him retrieve that which sits upon a sill." The image changed to show a thick, faded book somewhere within the Office's library. The binder read 'Practical Magic' in shimmery letters, fairly distinct from the rest of its worn cover. It leaned in the corner of a shelf, and on the side of the actually bookshelf read '511'.

"Bufkin!" The green flying monkey, already in a drunken stupor, flitted over to Snow and the mirror. He simply glanced into the image and sighed as he flew off to retrieve it. Snow dismissed the mirror and went to sit at the desk, temples already aching in what she knew would be a full day. But at least she would get some satsifaction out of the little trinket on her desk. For now, though, for Bigby's and her own sake, she put it into the middle drawer of the desk and locked it. She felt guilty, but was determined in the prospect.

The Sheriff knew many of the darker parts of their stories, as she quotes, 'The less said about them, the better', which he had directed at more than the obscene dwarves. She reasoned it was only fair that the secret little parts of his story that had never seen the light of day were at least known to one person. There were only four other Fables that she would show it to, if at all, whom she knew would keep it under wraps if it truly was unimportant. Anything else would be considered a rumor and be ignored. Not that she felt good about being a cause for rumors about someone she had high respect towards.

The large book was unceremoniously dropped onto her desk; she had to lean back to keep her fingers from being caught between it and the desk. That would not have been very pleasant, to say in the least. For the time being, Snow pushed it to the side of the desk under some other items, where anybody who came in and out of the office would not see... lest they were snooping.

* * *

Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open.

It's not there.

Close. Open?

Still no.

The small figure of what seemed to be a child, perhaps a first or second grader, paced around the cramped room, almost in full-blown panick. They were almost shaking, occasionally putting their second and third fingers in their mouth and biting down to try and calm themselves. But they simply couldn't. Everything they had worked for up to this moment, centuries of guarding and secrecy could be turned to naught but dust. And the unconvered weakness could be turned on them.

It was just a single problem, really. But it was truly massive. See, a special thing was missing. They would be royally - funny given their neighbors - screwed over if it was opened. And watched. All the way through, a few years' worth of small, specific memories could be their downfall, hidden among millennia worth. They weren't, in terms of physical years, a child per _say_ , but was forever, both physically and mentally, a child. Even funnier, given they're older than anyone and everyone who had ever set foot in this building.

If that box was opened, they thought, it would be all over. There would be a monumental and abrupt change. And they just couldn't have that.

Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open.

Sadly, they had no idea where the memory box was at the moment.

* * *

 **I liked the beginning. Then I started plot-dumping and lost consistency. Then I made it far too frigging obvious. I'm sorry T_T But Bigby is amazing and I wanted to do an actual story that not only portrays a softer side of him, but explored a childhood that the author gets to make up, due to disregarding the visual novels. The set backstory is coolbeans and all that, but I also like it when you just get something shoved in your hands and are told 'make something'.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's this. Sorry if it seems a bit rushed, but it kinda was. Also, where are all the TWAU fans out there? There's only 191 stories here as of now and game was amazing. Warning: Possible OOC and rushed plot dumping. Excuse me please sob**

* * *

After several needless pauses and glances back at the book page, Snow White carefully lifted the top of the box to open it. As she had guessed, it was hollow inside and did contain a few items. None of the four Fables she had called there had said anything; being Gren, Holly, Aunty Greenleaf, and Beauty. Due to Beauty's request, though, she changed the number to 5 and had him come. She would have invited Colin, but she stood by her policy of sending those who couldn't afford or use Glamours to the Farm as a byproduct of tightening control on black market spells.

"He keeps his own fur in a box?" Holly said to no one in particular as she looked inside the box among everyone else. Aunty Greenleaf shook her head at this. It wasn't a lot; just two small clumps. One was a near-black grey, and the other was more whitish. If that wasn't enough, there was a short section of normal, brown hair.

"A common requirement of the memory box is a genetic sample," Greenleaf replied.

"Then what about this feather?" She asked in a disbelieving tone, gesturing to the single crow feather than lay in the middle.

"How clearly the memory box interprets the memories depends on whats inside as well. While not required, say you spend a lot of time with a person or in a garden. Putting a genetic sample belonging to that person or a plant from the garden would make it clearer. Specifically, the memories containing it, whether seen or thought of. He may have interacted with a certain bird for a long period of time, and this feather may have belonged to them."

"What do you mean how clearly? Isn't the point to help you remember?" Holly was scrunching her eyebrows slightly now, leaning a bit farther over the box.

"I suppose you can call them... core memories. Core memories are defining moments in a person's life that help shape who they are. The less and less of a core memory a moment is, the blurrier and less exact it is. For example, in a core memory, every spoken word is exactly the same as it was when it happened. In a less defining moment, something similar may be spoken but it won't be verbatum." Holly just nodded a little at this, while Gren just snickered to himself a little bit.

There was also a little symbol carved into the bottom of the box, which Greenleaf paid special attention to. Beauty noticed it and asked as well.

"What's that symbol over there? It's a little creepy looking." Beast took a long glance at it but said nothing.

"Bufkin! Go get the book from before. You know which one I mean," Snow called out to the green monkey, to which he grunted a little and got ready to fly off.

"No need. I recognize this symbol," Greenleaf mumbled. Gren snickered again.

"Oh yeah? And what would that symbol be?"

"The symbol of the North Wind, of course. On the slim chance you've never heard of it, there was a widely known North Wind shrine back in the Homelands. The arch itself was the only entrance to a one-of-a-kind magical forest area. A lot of things could be done at the site. Traditionally you'd bring an offering and could ask for a blessing of really any sort, whether to a physical item or, say, a good harvest. You could also pray, but while you did so if you were dishonest or selfish with different purposes, you'd simply be.. killed."

"By what?"

"By the North Wind's son. I don't recall their name, but I met them once. They was very... quiet. But oddly kind on the one instance."

"What was that 'one instance'?" He smirked a little. Greenleaf shrugged a bit dismissively.

"The village people of the place I was born were extreme anti-witch folk, or whatever you want to call them. They figured it out when I was more in my teen years and sent me to ask for a blessing without an offering, which was an unspoken death sentence. Or, was supposed to be."

"What happened?" This time, Beauty asked, concern flicking across her face. Beast took a step closer to Beauty, putting a hand on her arm, but Beauty's gaze never left Greenleaf.

"Well, something ran in front of me when I was still a few miles away from the shrine and dropped a peaceful-looking, but.. dead rabbit. On the slim hope that I'd live, I brought it the rest of the way with me to the shrine. The arch was entirely made of stone and stood on a circular platform. This same symbol was carved into the middle of that, and a large wolf head was carved into the top of the arch so it stared at anyone who stood in front."

"Thats... still creepy..." Beauty commented. Snow nodded in agreement, though still remaining silent ever since calling back Bufkin.

"..Go on," Beast spoke, gesturing his hand in a sort of 'continue' motion.

"As for the wolf supposedly guarding the entrance... it was odd. I knew it was supposed to be the North Wind's child, but it was just barely a pup. Its head only came up to my knees. But it was staring intensely at me. As was tradition I knelt and presented the offering, and it.. stood up and went further inside the forest. I didn't know if it would come back but I didn't dare move."

"Did it come back?" Snow asked this time. Oddly enough, Greenleaf was doing most of the talking but it was quite an interesting story to her.

"It did, with a flower in its mouth. It dropped it next to the rabbit, then took the rabbit and walked off. Then, two large stone doors closed on the other side of the arch. They weren't there before, but I guessed that meant I could leave, and I did, with the flower. After that I just sneaked into my house when everyone else was asleep, packed some stuff, and left the flower there. I guess the other villagers found it the following day, since they didn't come after me." Aunty Greenleaf gave another small shrug, turning her attention back to the symbol in the box.

"If this symbol is here that means the Sheriff probably had something to do with the shrine at some point in time, although I can't tell how."

"Alright... should we start the memories?" Snow looked around at everyone, who gave quiet nods. Aunty Greenleaf mumbled something under her breath and moved her hand so it was over the box. A horrible wave of nausea passed over the six Fables, but then the scene cleared and they stood by a shrine, exactly the same as she had described. A young wolf, no more than a pup, sat underneath the stone wolf's head. Greenleaf glanced around, then looked at the young animal.

"That's them, alright," she gestured to them. The pup, although small, was a bit more fluffy than anything else. All of its fur had the same grey-black color, but it was somehow.. cute. Like an adorable, huggeable puppy. The only thing that would put someone off was the blank but intense look in their devilishly golden eyes. If they weren't so focused, they could easily be mistaken for a deceitful innocence, hiding youthful mischief.

In front of them was a man, who was on his knees and appeared to be begging. His hands were clasped together above his head. If he was saying something at all, it sounded like hardly audible nonsense muttering. A few silent minutes passed between those present, when the wolf stood up and turned around. The man stood up in turn and carefully, with stuttered steps, walked over to the middle of the archway. The wolf stood to the side as he passed them, then followed behind him through a rather clear-cut path leading further and further into the lovely place. It was beyond description, with many arrays of colors and shapes and sizes. One particular purple flower stood taller than Beast, and more lovely than Beauty, if that made any sense. The man constantly kept his eyes down, while the wolf kept critizing eyes on him, then took a glance to both sides. Long, thorny vines slowly reached out towards the man's ankles, until they finally tripped him. He began sobbing hysterically, while Greenleaf watched with critical eyes.

An odd, unnatural high-pitched laughter - multiple, actually - started to fill the clearing as the area quickly became sinister with fiercely dark colors and almost like everything around was curling around the man. The same purple flower from before seemed to have... moved, and was now looking over the front of the man. He would have been begging if he wasn't crying so hysterically. The flower simply leaned over... and closed its petals around him. It lifted up its head with a large bulk inside, presumably the man, and opened up again. There was nothing inside but a slight yellow tint and black spots dotting the pollen.

"That was..." Beauty mumbled. Beast put his hands on her shoulders rather gently, whispering something in her ear. She put crossed her arms tightly and tried to keep herself from glancing away. Everyone else kept a straight face but some made small shuffling gestures. It settled by a tree as if it always belonged there, and everything became like it had been before. The wolf watched quietly the entire time, when an excited, young female voice rang out, back from near the entrance.

"Hellooo? Are you there?" A young female pup trotted down the path. The other quickly softened up before turning to look at the other.

"Hey, Lola. I wish you'd wait for me before parading on in here..." They sounded male. He sighed a little and came up close to the other, bumping his head against the other in playful greeting.

"Aww, but that's no fun." Despite saying this, she bumped her head back against his, then pulled back a little and sat down. "So, what do you wanna do today, Bigby?"

* * *

 **Aaaaand... cliffhanger cut. I'm sorry this is so awful. It honestly did sound better in my head, I just can't portray it properly. I think.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Check my profile for other information and the disclaimer for everything. I'm also fine with one-shot requests, as long as it is not rated M. Lol, I'm not gonna get any though.**

* * *

"I dunno. I think I was hoping for some sleep," Bigby replied half-jokingly, half-seriously. The silvery female pup, Lola, just giggled a little in response. His answer only served to psyche her up more. In fact, she was so excited, she was subconsciously wagging her tail and her ears stood up straight. On top of that, despite the heavy physical difficulty, she seemed like she was grinning.

"C'mooooon!" She whined a bit. "That's no fun, Bigby," but he was already laying on his stomach with closed eyes, relaxed ears, and limp tail.

"Too late, I'm already asleep," he replied cheekily. Lola didn't seem very happy with answer and started yanked hard on one of his ears. He yelped and fully rolled over at the same time, now on his left side. After recovering from the initial shock, he giggled a little. "Did you really have to do that?" He started repeatedly pulling his right paw up to try and get it ontop of the ear, but the ear kept folding down and his paw would slide off. At some point he opted to just press and rub his head into the dirt, with his ear between the two.

"Well, you were being a bum-bum. All's fair," she hummed, nudging his back with her forepaw.

"Fine, fine. Let's go... to the river, or something," Bigby finally complied, getting up and stretching himself all the way through, starting from front to back. "Follow me, Lola," he sighed in a breathily sort of way, trotting off. The other followed with a victorious expression on her face and a triumphant gleam in her eyes.

* * *

"We went back pretty far," Holly mumbled upon viewing the memory. Both wolves were moving past several scenes, but that wasn't the focus of attention at the moment.

"All the way back to his childhood," Snow mumbled in agreement. "If he needs a memory box, isn't this a bit early to start at? We could be here for a long time." Greenleaf shook her head slightly.

"Well, we're here to know the dark parts of his story, right?" She said and sighed at the same time. It earned a nod from Snow, and a few sideways glances from the other Fables. "That's what we're seeing then. Something must've happened bad around now, and likely, the first real dark event. Once we see this one, it'll skip forward to the next one. Until someone wants to see something else, that is. And besides, time doesn't pass when someone uses a memory box."

"What could've happened?" Beauty mumbled. The two men present glanced at each other for a moment, both of which having hurt Bigby physically, and perhaps emotionally without intention, and not really willing to find out they may have only worsened an deeply buried hatchet.

* * *

The memory suddenly flashed forward to when the sun was setting. Bigby was guiding Lola back to the exit, always sticking very close to her. At the platform, she suddenly stopped and turned to face Bigby.

"Come stay with the pack tonight." It was more of a demand than anything else, and she wore a dead-serious expression - as much of an expression as a wolf could have - straight to his face. Bigby sighed a bit heavily, as if he'd heard this one before. Perhaps tens of times.

"You know I'm not allowed to leave." He stated just a seriously, taking her face head-on with his. There was no clear winner, though.

"How far are you allowed to go? I could maybe convince them to camp out-"

"I can't go past the edge of the platform, and they're not allowed in. Even letting you in is breaking the rules." His voice had become a bit deeper and blanker, slightly deadening his eyes. It was nothing like it was when the man had come, but it was of the same nature. Instead of saying anything, she stepped up and nipped the back of his neck, spurring a more... real... reaction. He gave a sharp yelp and practically flew backwards. She then moved behind him to nip the edge of his tail, 'convincing him' to move far enough forward that he was on the edge of the platform. His eyes were comically wide, and pure terror filled them.

* * *

Snow put a hand to her mouth, glancing sideways at Beauty in a sort of girl-gesture 'do you believe this?' Beauty shrugged a little and gestured back to the image, which had clearly progressed quite a bit since they took their attention away from it.

* * *

Bigby was off the platform, by a nearby 'normal' tree, literally shaking from fear. His eyes were somehow even wider than before, with dilated pupils, staring at the grass. The platform was several feet away, and Lola was looking at him with a smug glint in her eyes.

"If you're so convinced you're gonna die," she finally drawls out, "then at least enjoy your last night alive with my pack." She seemed to not really believe that he would really be punished for leaving, much less stepping on the grass at the other side of the doorway. He quickly shook his head. It looked more like he was trying to shake water from his fur, though he was dry from the stomach up. The fur on his legs, though, were damp, likely from the previously-spoken about river.

"If I go back now, I might be spared..." he mumbled quickly, still with his gaze on the lush green, though wilted in comparison to the grass from past the archway.

"Nope." She started pushing her head against his side, causing him to sidestep several times until she finally let up. He sighed, throwing the towel in.

"I'm dead either way," he sighed a bit sardonically, following with lethargic movements. Lola couldn't help but snicker a little bit as she led the way, apparently happy that she had finally got him to come with her. At least, she has assumingly asked at least once before.

* * *

"Was he really..?" Snow mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. No one responded.

* * *

It was now the middle of the night, but the forest was alight with panic. Roaring flames danced dangerously close to every fauna around. The whole pack was rushing about, trying to get as many of their members out. Wolves of every size and color was around, slowly espacing. The stronger wolves led the way for those with cubs or the sick and elderly. They clearly intended to get everyone out, and though showed no fear or doubt, were unsure. They were obviously tightly-knit; more of a family than just a pack. They weren't neighbours, they were best friends. Bigby was criss-crossing between the legs of wolves taller than himself, obviously yowling something but it was rendered inaudible between other howls, yells, and the fire itself.

He crashed head-first into another wolf his size, but the look of relief that blossomed all over him likely showed that he had found someone who he had looked for. It appeared to be Lola, though there was soot and dirt in her fur, making it seem greasy and erasing some of the silvery sheen it had. Combined with the water from being in the river priorly, she didn't look too great. She tried to yell something over the noise, but though the Fables couldn't hear, Bigby apparently could make out little whispers of it and responded. He then dashed forward to where the flames were coming after, and strongly positioned himself to stand, as if he was physically going to face it head-on.

* * *

"What's he doing..?" Beauty mumbled. The boys had little to say, clearly.

* * *

For a moment, they couldn't see anything, but the following, there was an eight foot-tall wolf standing where Bigby had, towering over some of the trees and easily taller than the other wolves... and used his famous huff 'n' puff. It was awfully scary to see in person. The fire obviously grew in size when he did so, but it delayed the flames enough for the others to flee. He was able to continue this for a full twenty seconds, took a sharp growling inhale, and repeated. Lola glanced back one more time at him, but an older female wolf quickly rushed over to pick her up by the back of her neck and fled. Moments later, he was small again, watching where they had fled. No one else was there, and satisfied, simply laid down continuing smoke inhalation, content to die there. He was sure he would die otherwise, anyway.

* * *

"Here it is," Greenleaf mumbled, her expression remaining in a tight-lipped frown, eyes still remaining hard and eyebrows drawn close. "The first truly dark moment kept out of the light."

* * *

 **Dear lord, this hurts to read xD I hope you guys like it better than I like it...**


	4. Chapter 4

**H** alf

 **O** f

 **M** y

 **E** nergy

 **W** asted

 **O** n

 **R** andom

 **K** nowledge

* * *

"That was... a bit sudden." Snow broke the silence first, watching the blazing forest turn to smudged hues of darkened green and brown, clashing with the fierceness of red and orange, but ultimately sandwiching that between itself and the cool blues and whites of the darkened sky and stars. Clouds left there own little marks on it, and trees left smooth vertical figures spiking between the blaze. It was beautiful, without a doubt, but unmistakingly horrendous minutes that had seemed to be like hours to the terrified young pup that was practically having a breakdown at the prospect of his possibly deceased friend. Thankfully, she hadn't been dead, rather separated among the larger members of their pack and eventually carried away, but the night had an unfortunate end regardless.

"It was. I wonder what happened leading up to that..." Beauty tilted her head downwards ever so slightly, and her eyes lost just a bit of focus as she half-heartedly scoured her mind for any ideas on what could have possible happened, but for the time being continued to draw up a blank. Beast shook her shoulder a little, but this didn't do much to bring his wife out of her little trance. A small frown and eyebrows, orientated to give a sadder expression decorated Beast's face as he looked upon his lover's, whose expression was, although similar, detailed with focus and hard edges rather than the softer one of his.

As she said that, the memory fizzled with a small pop to flashing colors darting across the scape in all assortments and shades; some of which the party had never quite seen before. It was like a rewind, but faster and the colors from each particular memory seemed severed somehow. As if it were a rushing flood. Lovely seemed to be the best term for it, though looking at it for too long caused a headache. At some point it finally came to a stop at the scene where Lola had been telling Bigby to come back with her for the night, right after she'd nipped him. Instead of seeing what they had expected to be Lola nipping him a second time, and possible even a third, causing him to back up off the stone, he firmly sat in place and gave her a steely glare. She returned it, but after a short-lived staring contest, she had sighed and pulled back.

* * *

"Goodnight, Bigby. See you tomorrow," she called back as she trotted off back the way she'd come that morning, an obvious sour yet aged note in her voice; aged so it was rather obvious that it was used often enough for Bigby to expect it and respond the same way she had, but his was a more tired one. Expecting. Little raw bits of hurt undertoned his voice, but no bit of his expression showed such a thing ever existing there. He remained seated there as the other being slowly got further and further away, until eventually disappearing into the forest. That, however, was not what had his attention. His right ear perked up and down, and his eyes twitched around towards the area to his right until both dilated momentarily, and he growled, just a bit. Both ears flattened against his skull, and he took to crouching lower. The way he side-stepped mutely off the platform and made a roundabout path into the forest, slinking along the ground like a shadow, could altogether be likened to a big cat. He passed several animals off prey, and despite being so close to them, had no idea he was there based on his stealthy actions, until voices were audible in the memory.

"Yeah, we're burnin' 'em out tonight. Bet their furs'll sell nicely," a grown man's voice sneered to another huntsman a few feet away with an axe in his hands (not the Woodsman) and a crossbow slung over his shoulders. It wasn't even a camp; only three or four men stood there. One hummed a quiet folk tune to himself as he went about counting matches. The other, who also was not part of the small conversation ongoing between the former two, was looking inside a large clay container. It reeked, and at some point, the one counting matches signalled something to him and he went off with that container and a doppleganger of it under either arm. The axe-wielding man snickered.

"Yep. We're gonna have a nice hunt back at camp If yer wonder'n 'bout the furs, just imagine what'll the meat be like." The first one nodded in agreement, then heading into a small space. Two large branches had been stuck into the ground, then tied with rope to a flat square of branches held together the same way as a small, temporary shelter. A large and varying assortment of leaves had been messily tied over that to the topside, mostly resulting in a waste of rope, but was well enough done to keep out rain. Inside this small trianglular space, a heap of dirt had been tossed and packed so the ground inside was a bit more elevated than the ground outside.

Bigby, who had sat back on his haunches and was calmly listening the entire time with a blank, dull expression, just on the other side of the tree the one counting matches had sat againt, raised a paw into his field of vision and sighed, individually flexing each toe as much as he could. They shifted in their spots, but just barely. Not enough to be noticed. His eyes, all though entirely void at the moment, turned a piercing glare onto each slow movement, studying and scrutizining every aspect of it, until finally he put the paw down and murmured to himself.

"I'll be dead meat in a little while anyway. May as well." He stood up and padded back. Though he seemed, for the most part, externally calm, there were a few aspects of his form that betrayed them. For one, the hair along his neck and spine bristled, standing up and lowering over and over again. His tail was lower than what it normally would have been, and the same could be said about his head. Internally, thoughts went racing back and forth in his head at millions of miles an hour. Some of these were to just slash travel (a term that confused the spectators) towards where he knew the pack was (Lola carried a distinct smell that wafted around in large amounts over to the west) but he wouldn't be able to convince the elders, alphas, or bettas of the pack. Perhaps those having just left the newborn stage would, and maybe even Lola, but that wouldn't be enough to convince a large group of adult wolves.

He shook each paw individually before he stepped onto the platform. Mostly some dirt was shaken off, but his paws were still stained with the forest floor when he moved across it and into the darkening confines of the two-faced area. His footsteps made soft, tip-tapping sounds as he passed across soft dirt and smoothed rocks until eventually coming to a patch of dirt between a yellow and blue flower, of a similar species but neither the same as the purple one. Something seemed off about the bit, but they were right in their suspicions. As he came closer and closer to it, the appearance faded, instead revealing a small hole, a little over half as deep as Bigby was tall. He silently stepped inside and curled up into himself, then opening his maw wide. A white light extracted itself from seemingly down his throat and gathered just between his canines and premolars, gaining a wisp-like appearance. When it was large enough, it exited his mouth and he relaxed down as it stretched over his head and steadily spread over his fur like a wildfire. Rather than simply covering him, it instead seemed to make his fur pure white and gave it the capability to radiate its own light, banishing any shadows from the small structure and steadily reaching up towards the heavens like a beacon from the top of the hole. It had a celestial beauty, put simply.

The flowers detached their own roots from the ground, yet somehow not leaving tracks or holes, and both stepped over to the hole and intermingled their roots, the sides of the petals closest to each other merging and showing more of a green hue. The middle section of the roots burrowed down and around the top of the hole on all sides, causing it to vanish from existence. However, the last traces of light did not appear until the roots that hadn't joined together covered the little holes. It seemed as if the flower had always been there, and there was no evidence of a living creature sitting inside the space.

Right as the flowers finished their process, a mechanical whirring eminated from the other side of the place, following by a high-pitched, maniacal laughing. Pitch black darkness overtook the clearing as the dark creatures that had swarmed the deceased man quickly spread throughout the clearing, snickering to each other and flashing their golden eyes about in search of something. Some would jump into one shadowed side of a tree and come out of the shadows of a rock but a few feet away, but all in the name of their 'fun'.

They quickly preyed upon the conjoined flower, swirling about it like a mass of bees, lashing out of each and every direction at the plant. Somehow it seemed to be extremely delayed in any form of deterioration, but this also seemed to be what the entire night would consist of.

* * *

"Why are they doing that?" Holly asked, trying to put down the feeling of smugness at Gren's expression when she had. Apparently he was curious of this as well.

"Because he is who weakens them," Greenleaf responded.

"What do you mean?" Beast questioned this time.

"They, Stalkers, are shadowy creatures that desire nothing but the chaos and destrution of their world. Unlike you and I, if they eat they are weakened, and the longer they don't eat, the more powerful they individually become. However, they are physically unable to not consume anything edible placed before them, and during the day they are like sloths and are incapable of climbing, shadow-travelling, swimming... they can only crawl across the ground. The shrine 'maiden' (Gren snickered), being Bigby, would only consume a small portion of the offerings. Almost 90% of it would be tossed into their confines, which was a large hole in the ground covered with crossed wooden bars. Any person who was 'swallowed' by these flowers weren't actually consumed by the plants, either. They would be deposited through an extending channel of roots into the hole by the side and be eaten alive by them. At night, however, they regain most of their transportation methods and will attempt to kill what it is that keeps them trapped there. The fact that he would be dead would not only heavily weaken the barrier, but it would allow the shadows to grow powerful and destroy whatever is left of the feeble entity and leave, going to spread havoc across the world. They are actually the main cause of the Homeland's destruction..."

No one said anything after that and turned their attention back to the playing memory.

* * *

By morning they had long since receded, and the flower, though with rips in its petals and small pieces of the stem having been skinned off, was otherwise fine. The two separated, to reveal the wolf midway receding the white from his fur. It slipped through the corners of his mouth like a reverse stream, vanishing within the fleshy, fluffy confines. He moved towards the entrance, and as predicted, his companion was moving towards the stone on the other side. She came inside, and they started their day as if yesterday's conversation left no gap between them. This only went to show how often Lola asked and how often Bigby denied, that it didn't affect their friendship anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

**~Has absolutely no excuse so doesn't even bother.~**

 **Well, just finished my first year of highschool. Like two and a half months ago. School starting soon and I haven't started homework at all. I've been drawing a helluva lot. I'd like to think I've improved enough over the now close to 5 years I've been doin' it. I haven't written anything recently, I kind of lost my taste for it for awhile, which is why I've been gone.**

 ***Pssh. Here I am now.***

 **The chances are this chapter is going to utterly suck and not use as many fancy words as previous chapters and the direction of the story may change slightly, but I'd like to think I'll finish it now. At the same time I'm replaying the game so if I miss details, it's because I haven't gone through the whole thing in almost if not over a year now. I'm only in chapter one, post arresting Dee or Woody, mainly because I had finally wanted to complete the Book of Fables entries which I'm missing four or five of.**

 **Anywho, please don't absolutely despise my guts for this and I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

Bigby slowly lifted his head, consciousness coming back to him slowly. He was in a tight, closed cage, and the ground was shaking under him - no, he was on some kind of carriage he could now see. Around him were other animals like himself, a bird above him, a fox next to him and a bear cub under him. They'd all be laying there in all different kinds of moods. Some of them were yelling angrily in their respective tongues, some of them resigned, some of them simply asleep. Their cages continued to rattle about as the carriage would hit bumps and dips in the road and he dropped his head back down, deciding to be resigned.

* * *

Snow put a hand to her mouth at the thought of him having been caged up and carted off somewhere unknown, especially so young.

* * *

He'd have eventually fallen asleep at some point, as the next thing he could remember was waking up at a loud rattling, his cage being tossed into a dark room among other animals. There'd be irritated noises around him and laughing from the humans who had done it to them, the door closing on them, leaving them in the dark and alone with each other. He again resigned himself to not care - the whole place reeked of death and despair and deep inside that frightened him and painted him a gruesome picture of what was coming.

Soon enough the humans would come back, grabbing their cages and dragging them away, some of them to another room where he'd never see them again and the rest, including himself, outside to some kind of close pen. Their cages were unlatched but they were stuck inside. Just outside, watching them would be an armed group. They looked like hunters.

The door swung open and a shot fired, and they were off.

* * *

Blood. All he smelled was blood. Around him, above him, and he was choking on it. All that hid him from view was the small bush protecting him, hiding him from view. He wanted to cry out but if he did they would find him, so he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and tried to wait, hoped he'd live.

Minutes later there'd be a thud and he flinched, a dead bird before him. Footsteps came up right by the bush, almost stepping on him, picking up the animal and walking away. He'd almost let out a cry.

Moments later, a crow landed up and hopped up under the bush with him.

"Hello," they'd coo quietly. He'd jump, almost out of the space.

"Who are you?" He'd quickly retaliate, shifting away from them.

"Someone important," they'd respond still calmly. "Though, you don't know that just yet, do you?"

"W-What?" He'd flatten his ears against his head.

"Don't worry," they'd say, waving their wings down like in a 'calm down' gesture. "I'll have to be going, though." They'd turn and hop out like to fly away.

"W-Wait!" He'd call. They'd turn their head and look at him curiously. "S-Stay here, at least until... they go away, or.." he'd trail off, rather obviously not knowing when this would end. They'd give him something that would've likely been intended as a crooked smile.

"Don't worry about me," was their parting words to him, and they'd fly away. He'd watch them go until the scent of blood reached him again and he was reminded of his situation.

* * *

"That was illegal at the time," Aunt Greenleaf spoke coolly, a little bristled by the situation but calm nonetheless.

"What do you mean?" Beauty turned to look at her, after glancing around at the others.

"To trap animals and bring them to an enclosed space to hunt them. It was considered illegal."

"Why?" Holly spoke next, something that surprised a few of them.

"It was considered cruel and unfair, and people feared that some sort of animal or hunting spirits or gods would be angered by the act. It differed from region to region but only discreet and remote locations usually differed from it."

There'd be a subtle look of distaste from her, something not uncommon.

* * *

The scenery would change again, a slightly older looking Bigby in the same cage as before, though it'd seem like it was too small for him now. Two of them would be speaking.

"I'm telling you! Every time we send those damn animals out there, this one never dies!"

"Then just take it in the back and kill it yourself!" The other responded, clearly sick of talking to this man.

"You don't get it! This one's different! It's not just an animal!" He'd sound paranoid.

"Man, you're losing it." He'd turn and walk away from the first.

Bigby listened quietly, his ears pressed back against his head. He looked rougher, somehow, though still quite young. The first would look at him, an indiscernible look in his eyes.

* * *

"You... you stupid mongrel, messing with my head... what kind of fucking spirit of torture are you?!" He'd shriek, gripping Bigby by his ears and pulling his head around. Bigby would be changed rather firmly to the ground, in some kind of dark room.

"But.. it doesn't matter!" He'd suddenly shift, a wide grin on his face. "Let's see how you like it!" He'd grip tighter, a small yelp coming from the wolf.

* * *

"What's happening?" Snow asked quietly. No one had an answer.

* * *

What must've been a few months later was a beaten up looking Bigby in the same space, the hunter approaching him with some kind of syringe and a maniacal grin. There was almost a shadow behind him.

"Let's see how this goes, huh?!" He'd come up, the wolf looking resigned and defeated. He forced his eye open and there was a loud howl as it was put into his eye. They'd slowly begin to sound human.

* * *

There'd be a mixture of disgust and horror coming from the group.

* * *

 **So I tried to put multiple events in here but it really doesnt feel that long. Oh well, it's two in the morning so time to sleep.. maybe..**


End file.
